


"Are you drunk?"

by AuroraBlix, TheAceApples



Series: TheFreelancerDivision Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, this seriously has no point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7578340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraBlix/pseuds/AuroraBlix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAceApples/pseuds/TheAceApples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>@randomalfonso asked: “if you’re still up for the short fics,  how about York and Wyoming with the drunk one?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Are you drunk?"

“Heyyyyyy, Wyoming. Feel like doing me a favor?” York asks as he strolls up to the other agent in the mess hall. A few standard issue soldiers unsubtly halt their conversations to eavesdrop on the Freelancer agents, always eagerly soaking up any new gossip. Of course, being York, he also bats his eyes at the older man while he asks. It has yet to actually _work_ on any of the team, but one day it _will_ , and until then, he’ll keep trying.

As it is, Wyoming just looks unimpressed and continues to sip his tea. Because nothing will ever stop him from being a British stereotype, not even deep space.

“It’s nothing bad?” he tries again after a moment of awkward silence. He holds up a picture of a goat as evidence. “I just need you to put this in Maine’s locker. Before he gets back from that mission with Florida. And don’t let him know that I’m the one who asked you to do it.”

Wyoming’s mustache, all York can actually see of his mouth, twitches as he leans forward to examine the picture carefully. His eyes narrow for a moment before flicking up to York’s face. Sitting back in his seat, the white-armored agent looks at York and very seriously replies, “Are you drunk, mate?”

York pulls back with a very offended expression. “What? _No._ Why would you even–”

“Because you _must_ be drunk, if you think I’m going anywhere near your little prank war with Maine,” Wyoming continues, cutting off the other man’s protestations. “Certainly not with a picture like _that_.”

“Like what?” York says with unconvincing innocence. “It’s just a goat. What harm could a picture of a goat _possibly_ –”

“O _ho_ ,” Wyoming chuckles, “I’m not falling for _that_. You know just as well as I do what will happen if Maine catches either one of us bringing _that_ up. Go convince our newest recruit to do it, if you’re so determined, but leave me out of it. There’s a good chap.”

“No, but–it’s gonna be _great_ , Wyoming, I _swear_!” York desperately calls out as the other man heads for the exit.

“Cheerio!” Wyoming calls back without turning around. “Do let me know how it goes, won’t you?”

Groaning, York collapses into the seat his traitor of a teammate just vacated and rests his head on the table. He could hear a few whispered conversations break out, and just _knew_ that the soldiers who’d heard the conversation were changing their bets in Maine’s favor. Now what was he supposed to do? Maine had put _glitter in his shampoo_ last time. There was no way he could top that without outside–

“Hey, buddy, you feeling okay?” Wash’s concerned voice asked from somewhere above his head.

Eyes widening, York quickly yanked his head up and grinned at the rookie. “Sure thing, Wash,” he said with an easy grin. “In fact, would you mind helping me out with something? You see, Maine asked me to get this for him before he got back from that mission with Florida, but I’m not sure I’ll be around to give it to him when he gets back…”

—

Bright and early the next morning, York opens the door to his quarters to a thoroughly miserable-looking Wash being hurled straight at his head. The two men go crashing into the floor and York sees a large, angry blur of white armor stalking away before dazedly letting his head fall back onto the metal grating.

Wash groans pathetically when York tries to push him off, and tells him he’s never doing York a favor ever again.

Wyoming just laughs when he sees the other two nursing their bruises later on in the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Maine is afraid of goats. I'm not sure why, but that's what I was getting at.


End file.
